


Greener

by yours_eternally



Series: AUgust 2020 Prompts [13]
Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Death Threats Mention, Explosives Mention, M/M, Oral Sex, gun mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25877347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally/pseuds/yours_eternally
Summary: ‘Can we fuck in your bed?’ Chris murmurs and Ricky feels another kick of heat.‘Chris—’he says, ‘we talked about this.’‘I know…’ Chris says, fingertips creeping up the inner seam of Ricky’s jeans. Ricky groans but doesn’t tell him to take his hand off. Because he does want it; wants Chris to touch and kiss and fuck and talk to, and any and everything in between.Following receiving a number of death threats, Chris’ label has hired Ricky’s agency to protect their controversial star. Against his better judgement, Ricky has taken Chris out of town and back to his place for Chris' safety. But he’s already struggling to keep the relationship strictly professional and is certain having him sleeping under the same roof isn’t going to help.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Series: AUgust 2020 Prompts [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859290
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: AUgust 2020





	Greener

Ricky flicks on the light, stepping back to allow Chris to pass him. Chris moves into Ricky’s apartment, stopping at the centre of the room and turning back to Ricky, eyes curious. 

‘I like your place,’ he says softly and Ricky inclines his head, closing the door behind him and setting the deadbolt.

‘Stay away from the windows,’ Ricky instructs as Chris peeks through the blinds to the balcony. 

‘You’re really taking this seriously, huh?’ Chris says, shedding his backpack and flopping down on Ricky’s tasteful grey couch. 

‘It is my job,’ Ricky says and Chris snorts. Ricky goes into the kitchen, clicking a pod into the machine and dialing his boss. 

‘21D9-A570-6V80-125Q, Olson,’ he reels off and the automatic answering machine connects him. ‘We’ve arrived, all clear,’ he says as soon as he hears them pick up. 

‘Good,’ his boss says, ‘seems we got Mr Cerulli out just in time.’ Ricky feels his pulse stutter.

‘Oh?’ he asks.

‘Yes,’ they continue, ‘a suspect bag was removed from the venue and found to be an IED. They had to do a controlled explosion in the street outside for fuck’s sake.’

‘Shit,’ Ricky whistles.

‘I’ll leave it to your discretion whether to tell him,’ they add, exhaling heavily. 

‘I’ll handle it,’ Ricky says, trying to sound like his heart isn’t pounding double time. ‘I’ll check-in again at 0700,’ he says and hangs up. 

The machine beeps so he removes the fresh latte and makes another. He trots out of the kitchen giving Chris the drink. He doesn’t generally fetch him drinks. He’s got a job to do, and fetching drinks isn’t in the description. But Chris is in his home — against good sense and good protocol — and Ricky guesses that makes him a guest. Almost a friend. Ricky quickly squashes that particularly unprofessional thought and goes back to the kitchen to retrieve his drink. 

When he comes back in Chris has shrugged off his studded jacket and set the needle of his record player, his hips ticking absently in time to the slow song. Ricky watches him for a moment, thinking about the first time he’d seen him. 

The agency had sent Ricky down to an unremarkable LA studio. Chris had seemed pretty unremarkable as well, black sweats and a hoodie with hood pulled up over his headphones as he sat hunched over the desk. Then one of the producers had put a CD into his hands and Ricky realised who Chris was and why they were giving the death threats such credence. Ricky had eyed Chris afresh. He’d seen him on TV, of course, all attitude and tattoos. And now he now knew why the agency had picked him as well.

‘Hey,’ Chris says, turning to him as Ricky sets down his cup on the glass table. ‘You have some pretty cool stuff.’ 

‘Thanks,’ Ricky says, watching as Chris tracks back over to him and sits down. Chris picks up his cup taking a gulp and groaning softly. 

‘ _Caffeine_ ,’ Chris exhales, ‘I can’t drink that shit on planes.’ Ricky knows. He’d been complaining about it the whole flight and then spent the entire cab ride from the airport begging Ricky to stop at every Starbucks they saw. Chris smiles at him and Ricky can feel himself softening. 

‘Something’s happened,’ he says, shifting to rest his elbows on his knees, eyes on Chris’. Chris looks back, jaw tight. ‘An explosive device was disc—’

‘Oh god,’ Chris gasps, hand flying to his mouth, ‘is anyone—’

‘No. There was a controlled explosion—’

‘Explosion!’ Chris interrupts again. 

‘Chris, please,’ Ricky says, hand resting on his wrist, squeezing gently to sooth him. Chris huffs but doesn’t say anything else. Chris covers the hand on his wrist with one of his, head bowed. Ricky makes no attempt to take his hand back. 

‘A suspect bag was discovered at the venue you would have been playing tonight.’ Chris makes a soft distressed noise but doesn’t speak. ‘It was found to be an IED, which was then disposed of in a controlled explosion. No one was hurt.’ 

‘Fuck,’ Chris says, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Ricky nods, sighing as he sits back as well. ‘This is like for _real_ , isn’t it?’ 

‘Yeah,’ Ricky says, putting a hand on his shoulder this time. Chris apparently takes this as an invitation to hug him and for a moment Ricky can’t quite resist. He’s so warm and so very, very _welcoming_. 

‘Hey,’ Ricky says at last, pushing Chris back gently, ‘dude, you’re vulnerable right now and I know you might feel—’

‘Aren’t you?’ Chris says, wet eyes flickering over Ricky’s face. ‘—vulnerable?’ he adds when Ricky frowns. 

‘Well,’ he says then shrugs, ‘I’m used to it and I’m trained to handle it, this is my job.’ 

‘And this is just a job?’ Chris says, voice quiet, looking at his hands. 

‘No,’ Ricky admits at last. They’d fucked. Twice. And Ricky’s not proud of it. It is, however, undeniably done but that doesn’t mean Ricky’s planning on going for the trifecta of terrible decisions, even if Chris is corroding his resolve more and more by the second. 

‘I don’t want you to get hurt,’ Chris mutters wetly after another moment and Ricky feels his heart clench. He puts an arm around Chris again. 

‘I can’t give you any _for sure_ ’s but I can tell you I’m going to use all my abilities and training to try and keep both of us unhurt.’ Chris huffs into his shoulder, then he nuzzles into Ricky. Ricky feels a kick of heat. Chris turns into him more and then Ricky feels his lips on his earlobe. 

‘Can we fuck in your bed?’ Chris murmurs and Ricky feels another kick of heat. 

‘ _Chris_ —’ he says, ‘we talked about this.’ 

‘I know…’ Chris says, fingertips creeping up the inner seam of Ricky’s jeans. Ricky groans but doesn’t tell him to take his hand off. Because he does want it; wants Chris to touch and kiss and fuck and talk to, and any and everything in between. 

Ricky turns into Chris and presses their mouths together. Chris moans softly, hand twisting into Ricky’s hair. Ricky moans too, hands on Chris' chest, feeling Chris’ hand fumbling with the zip of his jeans. 

‘You want to go to the bedroom?’ he asks, pulling back from his lips a little. 

‘Yeah,’ Chris grins. Ricky stands and leads him by the hand to the bedroom. Ricky feels oddly exposed as he watches Chris glance around before moving to the bed. Ricky’s grateful he’d had the forethought to make it up with clean, dark-coloured sheets before he’d flown out on the job… not that he’d ever expected Chris to be in it. 

‘So,’ Chris says, looking at Ricky as he sits leaning back on his hands. Ricky takes him in and, _fuck_ , the guy is attractive and on stage he looks like a god and Ricky kind of can’t believe he’s just sitting there, all flushed with his legs apart, so obviously ready to go. 

Ricky goes over to the bed, bending to kiss him. Chris pushes up into the kiss, hands fitting around Ricky’s waist. Squirming up the bed, Chris lies back and Ricky let’s him pull him down on top of him, torso between his thighs. Chris moans as Ricky licks into his mouth. Ricky can feel his cock pressing against his stomach, burning through their clothes. He cups his head, kissing him deeper. Chris grinds hips up into him, hands slipping down to his ass and squeezing. Ricky snorts softly, pulling back to kiss along his throat. 

‘Can we get naked?’ Chris asks and Ricky laughs sitting up to unbutton his shirt. Chris reaches to touch his stomach and Ricky shivers, sensitive. He shrugs his shirt off and Chris wriggles out of his as well. Ricky kisses his chest, letting his teeth catch his nipple making Chris whine. Ricky licks it again then sucks. Chris whines, hands on his head and shoulders, hips twitching up against Ricky. Ricky shifts, moving down to nip along his ribs and his hip bone. 

He pops the button on his jeans, pulling his underwear down enough to lick below his navel. Chris moans and Ricky pulls his underwear down more, mouthing the base of his cock. 

‘Let me,’ Chris mumbles, pulling at his jeans and Ricky gets up so he can take them off. He strips as well, climbing back on the bed and taking hold of Chris’ hips. Chris grins letting him part his thighs so he can get at his cock. Chris groans as he takes it into his mouth, hands tight on Ricky’s shoulders. Ricky sucks him, letting his cock slide in his mouth as he moves his head. 

Ricky pulls off him briefly to suck on two of his fingers, before sliding them between Chris’ cheeks to circle his hole. Chris gasps sharply as Ricky pushes a finger into him. Ricky continues to suck him, feeling his body twitch and contract with pleasure as he adds another finger. 

‘ _Mm_ , Ricky,’ he says, ‘you've got a condom?’ 

‘Yeah,’ Ricky says, taking the hint and wriggling over to pull open the bottom draw on his bedside cabinet. 

‘It is that yours?’ Chris asks and Ricky realises he’s rolled over to look in the draw as well. Ricky snorts, letting his fingertips brush the toy Chris has spotted as he grabs the condom and lube. 

‘Who else’s?’ Ricky chuckles softly.

‘You like that too?’ Chris says, letting his fingertips trace down between Ricky’s cheeks where he’s sat astride him. Ricky sucks his lip for a moment while Chris brushes dry fingers over him lightly. 

‘Sometimes,’ Ricky says, amused. Chris hums but removes his hand, evidently filing that information away for later. 

He returns to laying on his back and Ricky moves between his thighs again. Ricky rolls on a condom, slicking the lube down his length. Chris mumbles as Ricky moves closer, hands fitting behind his knees. Ricky folds up his long limbs and drops a hand to guide the head of his cock into his body. Chris whines and Ricky kisses his calf, reassuring. 

Ricky watches his face, the light from the window shifting and changing as it passes across it. There’s a flush high in his cheeks as Ricky slowly presses deeper into his body. Chris moans. Ricky bites his lip, squeezing his thigh, as he starts to give shallow trusts. Chris moans arching, squirming between Ricky’s body and the mattress. 

‘Fuck,’ he says, hands shaking on Ricky chest. Ricky moans; Chris feels so good. His gut is twisted up tight, burning as he slides in and out of Chris’ body. He holds his hips, so he can thrust into him harder. Chris writhes back arching. 

Ricky feels his gut clench and bits the inside of his cheek to distract himself. It’s difficult. He likes Chris so much. It’s embarrassing how close he is already. Chris moans deeply, head thumping back against the mattress. Ricky moves his hand from his hip onto his cock. Chris gasps, hips flexing, fucking himself between Ricky’s cock and hand. _Fuck_. Ricky can feel sweat prickling on skin, sliding against Chris’. 

Chris stills, sucking in a deep breath and Ricky can feel his body contract with the orgasm as he comes. Ricky pants, feeling his edge. Chris’ thighs are digging into his ribs as he works him through it. Then Ricky’s thoughts are scattering as the heat in his gut crests and peaks. He comes, body curving and head bowing so his hair brushes Chris’ chest. 

He withdraws from him, gasping, dropping onto his back beside him on the bed. 

‘ _Mmm_ ,’ Chris says, ‘fucking hell.’ Ricky laughs. 

‘Yep, fuck,’ Ricky agrees, smiling and lifting his clean hand to stroke Chris’ hair. ‘You can shower,’ he offers but he can already see Chris’ eyes flickering closed. ‘Or sleep.’

‘Sleep,’ Chris mumbles. He doesn’t complain as Ricky gets up and rearranges him so he’s lying on his stomach the quilt is over him. 

Ricky leaves the bedroom, silent in his bare feet. He removes the used condom in the bathroom and washes his hands. He grabs a pair of sweats from the dryer and pulls them on. He checks the deadbolt once more and then retrieves his gun from the behind the mirror in the hall. He sits down on the couch sipping the coffee, which, obviously, is now cold, and sets the gun next to it on the table. He’s not exactly expecting potential assailants to come bursting in — they were at his place specifically as it had no links to Chris — but it never hurt to be prepared. 

He scratches his head turning the TV on with the sound low. He thinks about the fact Chris is now freshly fucked and asleep in his bed. He exhales heavily. It’s going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> As of this fic, we are officially over half-way 🙌🙌🙌
> 
> [xyours-eternallyx](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xyours-eternallyx) on tumblr 🙌


End file.
